The sarcasm in his eyes was blatant. His words weren't all that harsh on the surface, but every one of them went straight for the heart.

Elliot knew exactly how proud Charisse was-being talked to like this would absolutely piss her off.

He sat there waiting for her to argue back.

But she didn't. Instead, she let out a small laugh, her voice calm and unbothered. "Yeah, I fall for people pretty easily. So what?"

She raised her chin slightly. "Owen, Clayton... They've all got their own charm. Why shouldn't I like them?"

Elliot's expression turned colder, tone sharper. "You? Like someone? You just fake that affectionate crap to cozy up to powerful guys."

Back when she and Owen broke up, she'd acted all heartbroken, trying to make it seem like they had the perfect love story. And then what? She turned around and latched onto his uncle, going on and on about how wonderful he was and how much she adored him.

Yeah right-that wasn't love, that was climbing the ladder.

"Whether I'm fake or not, what's it to you, Mr. Grant?"

"Of course it's my business. He's my uncle. You think I'm gonna let just anyone with a fake smile get near him?"

"So what if he's your uncle? Clayton himself said he wanted to marry me."

"He's getting on in years. Can't really blame him for being bad at reading people. Some folks are just too good at pretending. Full of sweet talk and lies-that kind of stuff's hard to guard against."

Charisse let out a soft, almost amused laugh. "Well, maybe someone should check who's doing the 'guarding.' Some people were fooled so bad themselves, they've got no right acting all high and mighty now."

That one hit home.

The second she said it, the air between them felt like it dropped ten degrees.

"Say that again," Elliot growled, his voice low and tight, every word iced over.

Charisse pressed her lips together, clearly regretting that last bit.

Elliot wasn't who he used to be. The kind of past he had wasn't something he'd want hauled up again-not now.

But still, wasn't it him who threw the first punch? Dripping sarcasm, every word like a blade."What's wrong? Can't handle someone throwing your own words back at you, Elliot? You can dish it out, but no one's allowed to call you out?"

Elliot stepped closer, pressure rolling off him like a storm cloud. "Keep going. See what happens when you try to 'call me out'."

A warning bell rang in Charisse's mind.

She didn't want to stir up more trouble here-after all, this was Clayton's turf. Too many people around. All it'd take was one wrong glance, one wrong assumption, and she'd be in real trouble.

She tried to walk past him.

He lifted an arm, blocking her path.

She turned her head slightly, and bam, his other arm came up too.

Now she was boxed in, cornered between the wall and him. His gaze bore down on her, low voice laced with danger. "Keep going?"

Voices echoed faintly down the hallway-Clayton's was among them.

Charisse's face hardened. "Move."

Elliot didn't budge. Instead, he leaned in, the heat of his breath brushing her cheek. "If my uncle sees us like this, what do you think he'll assume? That I'm cornering you, or that you're shamelessly throwing yourself at me? Still hoping to marry up, huh?"

Her eyes snapped shut.

Whatever Clayton thought, this situation wouldn't end well.

If someone caught them like this, it'd be seen as a slap in Clayton's face.

No one got away with embarrassing Clayton.

Her whole body tensed. Elliot's smirk deepened, like he knew he had her. "I can't judge your choices? Maybe. But I sure can ruin them. Believe it?"

"Fine-I spoke out of turn, that's on me." Her voice came quick, clipped. "If that's not enough, we can talk, but not here, okay?"

Footsteps were closing in fast, voices clearer by the second.

"Nope." He glanced at her slowly, like he had all the time in the world. "Too late for sorry now."

Charisse's pulse jumped. "Elliot, you-"

"Round two of that five million." And with that, he tilted his head down and kissed her.

Charisse's brain blanked. Her chest tightened like fireworks had exploded right behind her eyes.

He's lost it. Completely.

Was he out of his mind, or did he actually want her dead?

Did he not realize what would happen if Clayton saw them like this?

Charisse shoved at him with all her strength, her palms meeting the unyielding wall of his chest. But Elliot didn't budge an inch-he didn't even sway. Instead, he closed the distance between them, until he was practically on top of her, his body caging hers against the nearest surface.

Every hard plane of his torso pressed into her softer curves. She could feel the steady, controlled rhythm of his breathing-a stark contrast to her own ragged, furious gasps.

Voices came nearer down the hall:

"Oh, Mr. Ellis, you've got to tell us-when's the big day? You won't forget to invite us, will you?"

"Honestly, you and Miss Walton. just perfect together. A real match made in heaven!"

"When I get home, I'm gonna tell my daughter: 'Look at Miss Walton! Hope you find someone half as wonderful as Mr. Ellis someday.'"

Clayton chuckled at all the compliments, obviously basking in the flattery.

They turned the corner.

The hallway was lined with thick, plush carpeting-footsteps barely made a sound. Still, every muffled step pounded in Charisse's head like a warning bell.

She could already picture the look on Clayton's face when he saw them. That smile of his would vanish in an instant, replaced by the sheer humiliation of catching his fiancée tangled up with his own nephew.

Her future? Either a body bag or exile to Clearstone River.

Cold sweat broke out all over her. Just when she was about to panic completely, her right hand, still squirming uselessly, grazed a hidden crack in the wall. Desperation surged-she shoved at it hard.

A door creaked open into darkness.

She stumbled backward into it, dragging Elliot along with her.

The secret door was solid, but designed to close soundlessly. It sealed behind them like they were never there.

Right then, Clayton's group stepped into the hallway.

If any one of them paid the slightest attention, they'd notice a section of the wall trembling slightly.

Charisse leaned against the still-quivering wall, frozen in place. Elliot, meanwhile, had her caged in, his lips trailing down with maddening precision, making her head spin.

Behind her, footsteps drew closer. If one of them opened the door now, there'd be nowhere left to run.

The tension shot through the roof. Her breath stuck in her throat. Right now, her entire being had narrowed to just one sense-hearing. She swore she could even catch the sound of pant legs brushing against each other as Clayton passed.

Then, Elliot finally let go.

His breath ghosted along her neck, his smirk practically audible as he whispered low into her ear, "Should we invite them in?"

Charisse hissed back, "To do what, cheer us on?"

"Hey, a million-bucks-a-kiss deal like this? It deserves an audience."

She shot him a glare, words drying up.

Outside, the sound of shoes grew faint. They'd made it. No one noticed the hidden door.

Charisse exhaled, lungs finally working again.

Her legs went weak. The whole thing felt like barely dodging death.

Not far away, a polite staff member stopped Clayton. He'd overheard Charisse on the phone earlier, and now, he was telling Clayton everything he'd caught.It wasn't really about anything else-Charisse's words were sweet, and if Mr. Ellis was in a good mood hearing them, maybe he'd throw a little bonus his way.

"Miss Walton just said you're better than anyone else, that she really likes you. She even said no matter how hard things get, nothing's gonna stop her from being with you..." The waiter spoke with a look full of admiration, "Mr. Ellis, your relationship with Miss Walton is honestly goals."

Clayton responded with his usual gentlemanly smile, but you could tell he was in a great mood. The faint lines by his eyes only made him look more charming. "Got it. Go find Ashen for your tip."

The waiter lit up immediately and bowed, "Thank you, Mr. Ellis!"

The people behind Clayton had obviously heard too. They started chuckling, tossing out congratulations here and there.

"That guy's your plant, isn't he?" Elliot murmured in Charisse's ear. "And that phone call earlier-bet it was all staged. You just wanted Clayton to overhear it and think you're some perfect little angel, didn't you?"

Charisse was honestly floored by how much hostility he threw her way. "Wow, I'm not that desperate."

Elliot let out a soft snort. "Yeah? Hard to say with someone like you. You'll do whatever it takes to climb up the ladder."

At that point, she was just tired. She couldn't even bring herself to guess how low he thought of her anymore. In his eyes, she probably had every terrible trait imaginable-manipulative, phony, scheming... and all of it pinned on her without hesitation.

She didn't bother defending herself-not because she had nothing to say, but because it didn't matter. He wouldn't believe her anyway. In his world, she'd already been nailed to the wall like some kind of disgrace.

He waited a beat without hearing her respond, then added, "What, nothing to say? I hit the nail on the head, didn't I?"

Annoyance bubbled up inside her. She gave up entirely and snapped, "Think what you want."

Whatever. As soon as they got out of there, she'd just avoid him like the plague and dodge any more verbal jabs.

But then the conversation outside suddenly shifted tracks.

"Looking at that painting just reminded me of that diamond mosaic from the Middle Ages that Sotheby's showcased earlier this year. Wasn't it bought by Mr. Ellis?"

"Yeah, he paid 250 mil for it. I was lucky enough to see it in person once. It's supposed to be here at Nocturne, right?"

"Really? Mr. Ellis, could we take a look? That thing's a masterpiece."

Charisse froze instantly.

Her eyes slowly drifted up toward the huge frame just behind Elliot.

The grass was made of jade green agate, the night sky paved with sapphire and diamonds-subtle and luxurious, glowing in the dim light. It really was breathtaking.

Who would've thought something so priceless would be left hanging on the wall of a barely lit hallway at some private club?

"If you guys wanna see it, of course," Clayton replied. "Lucky coincidence-it's just right here."

He had already turned and started walking their way.

Before Charisse even had a chance to react, she felt the hidden door behind her begin to open slowly.

And right in front of her, Elliot was still pressed up against her-a pose that looked way too intimate.

The dim corridor brightened as the lights from outside spilled in.

The chatter behind them cut off instantly. Everyone stood frozen, wide-eyed, staring in disbelief.

No wonder they were shocked. A hidden door, a sealed hallway, a dim glow-add a man and a woman alone in such a private space, and it's hard not to overthink.

Clayton paused for a second too. "What are you two doing here?"

Even though Charisse had already pushed Elliot away when the door swung open, it still looked way too ambiguous.

No one behind Clayton dared to speak; they didn't even glance at one another, like even a stray look might get them in trouble.

The only one at ease was Elliot. He leaned lazily against the wall, exactly where she'd shoved him, completely unbothered, just watching them.

When he opened his mouth, clearly ready to speak, Charisse beat him to it. She tilted her face up just enough for the light to catch the glimmer of tears welling in her eyes, her lower lip trembling ever so slightly.

"Mr. Ellis." she began, her voice delicate and wounded, almost a whisper. She clasped her hands tightly in front of her, fingers twisting together nervously. "I'm afraid. I can't possibly marry you."

Clayton's voice was calm. "Why?"

"Because Elliot." she continued, her words catching as if it pained her to say them. "He doesn't approve. He said I had ulterior motives." Her tone was laced with a hint of wounded pride, soft yet charged with emotion, like she was holding back both tears and defiance.

"He refused my toast earlier. I know he looks down on me, but I still wanted to clear up the misunderstanding with him myself. But instead of listening, he only humiliated me even more. Honestly, I guess I was asking for it.."

She brushed her hand across her face and took a deep breath. "Mr. Ellis, thank you for your interest, but I'm clearly not good enough for you."

Her cheeks, her lips, even her eyes were red-whether from anger or from just feeling completely wronged, no one could tell. She looked like a small, furious rabbit backed into a corner.

Everyone finally got the picture. So that's what this was.

It all clicked-just like that server said earlier, "Miss Walton would go through anything to be with Mr. Ellis."

And they'd all seen with their own eyes how Elliot had treated his would-be aunt-cold and dismissive. No wonder Charisse was trying so hard to get his approval; she didn't want him and his opinion standing in the way of her marriage.

Clayton gently patted her shoulder and broke into a smile. "Elliot, you're reading her wrong. Charisse isn't like that."

Even with her back to Elliot, Charisse could feel the weight of his gaze pressing on her, sharp and suffocating.

She didn't need to turn around to know-whatever impression he had of her, it had just gotten even worse.After a long silence, Elliot finally spoke, his voice steady but not rushed: "Uncle, you've had too many women around you with bad intentions. I was just trying to prevent trouble before it starts."

She was quick-so quick. Jumped in first and twisted things around, flipping the script on him in a heartbeat. Now no matter what he said, people would just think he was bullying her.

Damn. She played the victim so perfectly it made him look like the jerk.

Fine. Whatever. Well played.

"I appreciate Elliot looking out for me," Clayton said with a smile as he turned to Charisse. "He's doing it out of care for me, you see. Don't be upset, alright?"

Charisse gave a slight nod, knowing when to stop pushing.

The tension finally began to ease. Someone started talking about the diamond painting on the wall, and soon the whole group was distracted by it.

Still, a few people stole glances at Charisse, but this time, instead of gossip or judgment, there was admiration in their eyes.

Being with someone like Clayton really had perks. Even if he was older, he still had that pull-women kept flocking to him. This young, gorgeous woman falling for him? Sneaking off to talk to his nephew just to clear the path to marry him? That was wild.

Some of the men couldn't help imagining-if a girl like that was crazy about them, they'd be living the dream.

Clayton casually wrapped his arm around Charisse's waist, soaking up all the envious looks without a care.

He was clearly in a good mood and pleased with himself. She knew how to make a man feel important, that much was clear.

So he started explaining the diamond painting to her in a smooth, warm tone, laced with playful affection.

Charisse wasn't really listening. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Elliot slip out through the hidden door.

She let out a breath she didn't even realize she was holding. That round was over.

But the price? It was more than she expected. She might've gotten through this moment, but deeper down, she knew she was caught in a much trickier web. Now everyone seemed convinced she was dying to marry Clayton.

But the truth? That was the last thing she wanted.

His shady business dealings made her skin crawl. If she married him, she'd be on the same boat-and that wasn't a ship she wanted to go down with. Sure, he held power in Draycott right now, called the shots like a king.

But what if that empire crumbled someday?

If Clayton really went down... he'd be lucky to get a fast death. And her? She'd go down with him, probably without even a whole body to bury.

Before she got tied to Clayton, Charisse had never really thought about what it meant to die.

But now, "death" suddenly seemed a lot simpler than she ever imagined.